When Frank Haskins Surfs the Net, He Gets Fucked Up
the Information Super Hershey Highway

Sorry I've been gone so goddamn long. Took my public defender longer to get me out of Guantanamo than he expected. Fucking Ashcroft.

Well, my cheap-ass boss finally sprung for a "new" computer for me. I've been bitching about the 1990 Apple II that I've been using, so the big cheese finally came through. I got a "pre-enjoyed" 1992 Packard Bell desktop model with a Pentium I processor. It's a big step up from the old computer. I don't have to tear off those goddamn strips of paper with the little holes in 'em from the edges of each of my print-outs anymore. So I finally got Internet access, but I can eat my lunch in the time it takes to download each new screen. My boss told me, "This computer is a classic. They don't build 'em like this anymore. You're lucky you don't have one of those crappy new Dell computers like everybody else." So it was looking like Frank Haskins wasn't getting fucked for once.

So yesterday, friggin' Human Resources sends me to some jerkoff training session. Part of my probation for my airport fiasco is to attend 2,000 hours of this "Managing the Terrorist Within" counseling group. So I'm out all morning, and when I get back to my cube, a bunch of "work buddies" run out of it, leaving nothing but a picture of a naked fat broad on the screen. A couple hours later, my boss calls me in to his office, where I'm greeted by a bunch of big goons from security. The boss proceeds to inform me that he knows that I've been using my "new" computer to surf websites such as nakedfatbroads.com, guyshumpinggoats.com, alqaeda.com, and deathtoamerica.com. The security guys then proceed to a round of strip searches and body-cavity searches. And if having some security guy's arm up my butt to the elbow wasn't bad enough, the big picture window on the boss's office overlooking the main floor gave the whole department a freebie of what would normally have been a pay-per-view event.

Long story short, I'm back at my old cage here at Guantanamo. Got a "care package" from home today. My mother sent me some Armour Potted Meat and knitted me a wallet. And an inflatable doughnut.